


In the Swell of the Night

by salatuh



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Grumpy Silver, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mother Hen Flint, Smol Silver, Strong Flint, cuddles ensue, my first attempt at fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-22 02:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salatuh/pseuds/salatuh
Summary: A/N: This entire random ficlet is the brainchild of a convo @brassfannibal and I had regarding how adorable and smol Luke Arnold is. Flint totes picked him up bridal style at some point, okay? :D This is set sometime between S2 and S3. Enjoy!Flint’s green eyes studied his countenance before he nodded and bent over Silver.“W-whoah, Captain,” Silver breathed heavily, grabbing the jar in one hand and shying away at Flint’s sudden closeness. Flint sighed and rolled his eyes before sliding his arms under Silver’s frame.“Just hang on to me,” Flint said while swiftly lifting Silver off the window seat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brasspetal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brasspetal/gifts).



At last, the dark blanket of night befell the ship. Silver pressed his clammy forehead against the cool glass of the cabin window and listened to the distant ringing of the beginning of the first watch. The Walrus had escaped the worst of the storm, the ship no longer rocking violently against the harsh rising of white-capped waves. Silver listened to the dying patter of rain against the window and sighed deeply before opening his eyes to look down at his current state.

He was in silent agony. His body covered in a sheen of sweat from the slowly healing infection on his stump. Beside him on the floor lay a bloody prosthesis. Lined with the drying remnants from his improperly healed wound. He absolutely despised Howell’s orders to air out his stump, seeing as he refused to be seen hobbling with a crutch across the deck. But, losing more of his left leg to the blade was a fate Silver would rather not meet. Silver wiped his face on the sleeve of his billowing white chemise then picked up the salve of arnica Howell left for him to use twice daily. 

The cabin door creaked open then closed, and Flint entered relaxedly pacing the floor until he stood at Silver’s side next to the window seat. 

“The rain’s stopped.” 

Silver glanced up and nodded toward the window beside him, then continued rubbing the mixture into his reddened skin. 

“I do still have both my eyes, you are aware. I can see the rain has stopped.” 

When Flint said nothing into the silence, Silver looked up with a small grimace. Flint’s green eyes studied his countenance before he nodded and bent over Silver. 

“W-whoah, Captain,” Silver breathed heavily, grabbing the jar in one hand and shying away at Flint’s sudden closeness. Flint sighed and rolled his eyes before sliding his arms under Silver’s frame.

“Just hang on to me,” Flint said while swiftly lifting Silver off the window seat.

If anyone were to question it, Silver would vehemently deny the squeak that left his throat at being suddenly cradled in his captain’s arms. Silver quickly gripped onto Flint’s shoulders and squeezed while he was carried toward the cabin door, one strong freckled arm under the bend of his knees, the other around his back. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Silver said, his nerves were on fire, and a new wave of anxiety hit his chest at being seen without his metal leg by the watch outside. Flint stood stockily and pushed his chin down while catching Silver’s worried eyes. 

“You need fresh air,” he began and started toward the door once again. “Seeing as you are strictly forbidden—” Flint emphasized with a stern look before facing forward and opening the door, “to use your prosthetic until your leg is properly healed. And seeing how you are in no state to walk on your own at this moment, I will take you instead.” 

Silver looked nervously between the open door and Flint’s face, pleading with his eyes to not be taken out like this, in such a state of vulnerability with his captain. But Flint was resolute and walked on through the doorway and out into the open air. 

Silver buried his face in Flint’s chest and held on tighter to his neck. 

“Please,” he breathed out. Flint paused as they reached the stairwell to the main deck. “They—” Silver took a shaky breath and continued. “They’ll see.” 

Silver felt Flint hold him closer still and brought a hand to his dark curls at the back of his head. Silver looked up and blinked away the sudden promise of tears in his eyes. His chest felt like fire was clawing its way through his lungs, but the soft stare he found himself in with Flint dampened the flames. Flint’s fingers massaged the nape of his neck in soothing movements until his breathing evened out. Silver’s mouth parted out at a sigh. For a moment, a brief fleeting moment, Silver found himself enraptured, wrapped, cradled by those jade eyes, that soft whisper of a grin on lips so close he felt the breath puff out between them in tune with the breeze that dried all traces of sweat from his forehead. 

Flint was the first to look away. He gently moved Silver’s knees closer to himself and walked on down the steps. Silver turned his head to look over Flint’s shoulder, keeping an eye for any wandering crewmembers.

“I sent the first watch away, and offered them respite until middle watch comes,” Flint stated. They reached the starboard beam, and Flint began to slowly lower Silver to the railing. Silver gasped and grasped at Flint until he felt his nails digging into the muscular flesh beneath his fingers. Flint chuckled and kept his arms around Silver, seemingly unbothered by the stronghold Silver had around his shoulder blades. “What, you think I’m going to toss you to the sea?” 

Silver weakly pulled away and feigned nonchalance. “Is that not what you were planning on doing since the very beginning?” Flint’s gaze turned stoney at the remark. Silver loosened his grip and pet the hair on the nape of Flint’s neck. He ducked his head before looking back up in apology. 

“Would you rather me carry you?” Flint asked with a raised eyebrow, glancing over Silver’s head back to the railing as if in question. Silver swallowed and nodded his understanding as Flint gently placed him down to face him. 

He felt the rough wood on the backs of his thighs and the light wind at his back. Flint kept his hands steady on Silver’s back until he steadied himself, then dropped them to his sides. Silver slipped his arms away as well and gripped the railing instead. His legs hung loosely, the stump a much lighter shade of pink thanks to the salve. The fresh air did do him some good, as the pain was but a mild throb. 

He looked up to Flint, then over his shoulder and up to the empty crow’s nest above, and finally around to the cloudless, starry sky above them. 

“I suppose it has been a while since I’ve been able to properly gaze at the night sky,” Silver said. Flint hummed in agreement.

With a tempest that felt like eternity and Flint strongly opposed to allowing Silver out of the cabin during it, setting his eyes on the constellations on a clear night was quite a pleasant change of scenery. 

They stayed there in comfortable silence until a shiver ran through Silver’s body. He moved his hands up to rub his upper arms, yet the waves rolled the ship in such a way that Silver nearly fell into Flint’s chest instead. 

Flint was quick to react and bracketed Silver with his hands and steadied him back onto the ledge. Silver held onto those strong forearms and took a steadying breath. Flint’s warmth was an inviting pull. Silver watched Flint’s eyes as he slowly moved his arms around his neck once again. Silver felt the welcoming heat of Flint’s arms around his back and sighed as he laid his head against his freckled chest. 

“Sorry for being such a shit to you,” Silver mumbled against Flint’s chest.

Flint grunted and held Silver closer to him, rubbing his hands across his back to keep him warm.

“You’re always a shit.”

Silver huffed and snuggled closer. His eyes slipped closed as he listened to the calming lap of the waves and Flint’s steady heartbeat, ebbing and flowing in unison.

“Thank you for,“ Silver rubbed his nose and lips into Flint’s skin, as if he were a cat marking his beloved territory before continuing. “Well, for dealing with me being a shit.”

Flint brought his hands to cup Silver’s face, thumbs rubbing his cheekbones lovingly.

“You’re my little shit to deal with, and I choose you without regret or shame,” he said.

Flint glanced down to his lips before capturing them between his own. Silver sighed into Flint’s mouth and welcomed his wet tongue to swirl with his own. Their chests swelled with breath in tandem. Silver curled his fingers into the nape of Flint’s neck surrendering to the tenderness his captain showed him. They parted with lighter touches of lips, noses brushing together. Flint grinned with a small chuckle at Silver’s dreamlike expression. Silver opened his eyes and smiled widely up at Flint in response. Another shiver ran through him and he hummed before speaking.

“Carry me back?” Silver shyly asked.

Flint kissed the top of his head of curls before bending to slip his arms back under Silver. He playfully groaned and looked to Silver with a wink.

Silver smiled and leaned his head onto Flint’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, happy to rest in these arms until the morning light came.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James heard a low whine build from behind him. He placed the basin atop his desk and came stand before him instead. 
> 
> John’s eyebrows creased together, and his jaw clenched as his eyes were shut, another painful noise rising in his throat. James paused and observed to see if Silver would move to wake himself up, and when none came he sat beside him on the window seat. 
> 
> “Silver,” he called out in an even tone. His quartermaster’s hands were balled into tight fists near his left leg, as if searching for what was once in the now empty space beside his right ankle. Flint huffed out a breath through his nose in worry and agitation before calling out more firmly. “John.”

James opened the door to the cabin with a push of his boot and carefully stepped in with enough pause to keep space for his quartermaster’s relaxed form to slide through unscathed by the doorway. He steadily stepped to the window seat to deposit Silver’s now lax frame to rest.

Silver took in a deep rush of breath once his back met the padding of his perch. Flint kept his arms around John’s shoulders, grinning fondly when his blue eyes opened to drowsy slits and looked up at him.

“I didn’t expect to do that,” John slurred with a small smile. His fingers trailed along the back of his captain’s neck before slowly bringing them to cross over his stomach.

Flint chuckled under his breath and pet the side of Silver’s face before bending over him to grab the jar of salve and its top. Silver giggled at Flint’s feigned groan as he came back, closing the jar and placing it on the shelf alongside Silver’s other supplies before coming to sit at the end of the window seat beside him. He had his own shelf, his own bed in this cabin they now called their own.

Silver felt for Flint’s hand and rubbed his thumb atop his freckled skin. They stayed in comfortable silence, listening to the lapping of the waves beyond the glass window and the sounds of the bell calling for middle watch to commence. Flint looked to him as he took Silver’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. Silver’s stomach fluttered and his throat trembled at the utter gentleness his captain held for him in these moments. He swallowed down the forming knot in his chest and closed his eyes instead for a brief moment, and opened them when he felt Flint’s thumb rub at his cheekbone affectionately. Those warm fingertips would be his undoing, Silver was sure of it.

He took in a steadying breath and pressed into Flint’s hand, holding it as he turned to kiss the palm. Flint’s eyes took in Silver’s furrowed brow that twitched at the contact, but kept his ground when those blue eyes caught his. Flint brought his lips to rest atop Silver’s curls. He inhaled and lightly patted his cheek before removing himself from Silver’s warmth to cover his slight, faintly shivering frame with the wool blanket at his foot.

“It’s best you get some rest. We have charts to look over when day breaks,” Flint spoke while tucking the sides in around Silver’s shoulders ensuring his heat was securely insulated.

Silver huffed and yawned out, but nodded nonetheless.

“Aye, Captain.” He watched Flint get up to shed his jacket and place it on the mounted coat hanger across the cabin.

“Thank you,” Flint paused at Silver’s words, and turned around to gaze at him. “For this evening. The air did help.”

Flint nodded and shrugged his shoulders as his sat on his bed to remove his salt-bitten boots. Once they were removed and put in their place beneath the frame, he looked up to see his quartermaster had surrendered to slumber once again.

He took pause, observing the even rise and fall of John’s chest. They were like the gentle motions of the ocean beneath the Walrus. He looked alarmingly young — James dared to consider innocent — in his sleep. The hardened lines he held while attempting to feign strength and not absolute pain from wearing his leg had dissipated. The tresses that framed his tanned skin rested around his face in a rich dark halo. His dark prince, Flint thought. Dangerous as he, even, but not in his sleep. Not while he rested and took off the mask of the ever charismatic and enigmatic quartermaster. No, he was just a man here. Just his John.

James quietly moved to sit at the stool next to the window seat, and picked up the prosthetic off the floor. He grimaced at the dried up blood and pus that lined the socket. Taking a flask of freshwater, a sliver of castile and a cloth from Silver’s shelf, Flint took to his task of cleaning the boot with sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

As he started to pour the muddled water into the chamber pot, James heard a low whine build from behind him. He placed the basin atop his desk and came stand before him instead.

John’s eyebrows creased together, and his jaw clenched as his eyes were shut, another painful noise rising in his throat. James paused and observed to see if Silver would move to wake himself up, and when none came he sat beside him on the window seat. He sat with his arms awkwardly in the air hovering over Silver’s now twitching form, careful of his left leg. Another thrash and a sudden cry left John’s now open mouth and Flint promptly dropped his palms to rest on Silver’s chest and the side of his head with a steady pressure.

“Silver,” he called out in an even tone. His quartermaster’s hands were balled into tight fists near his left leg, as if searching for what was once in the now empty space beside his right ankle. Flint huffed out a breath through his nose in worry and agitation before calling out more firmly. “John.”

Silver’s eyes flew open at the sound of his name. James gently pressed his palms down in a reassuring fashion in an attempt to calm the wild harried expression on John’s tear-streaked face.

He looked to him without sympathy, without pity, but with the understanding of the darkness that haunted him. He understood those moments. When in another realm of existence and those held dearest, that one never thought would ever be ripped, hacked away from oneself were suddenly gone.

A Thomas. A Miranda. A Limb.

Only to fall down into hollowing realization that the worst nightmares were in fact reality.

James held his gaze steady on John’s face until his breathing had calmed from gasps and gulps of air to huffs and puffs through his nostrils. Silver looked alarmed at his closeness, but this did not deter James’ directive to pull him flush to his chest in an embrace. Even at the small, fraction-of-a-moment hesitation Silver had at being picked up once again, James lifted him and brought him to his bed and laid down beside him.

John knew better than to question his captain again. He instead chose to keep silent, and watched as Flint brought his own blanket and pulled it over their waists. His breath hitched when he felt James’ arm reach between them. He captured those green eyes, hooded and sure, while a strong right arm gently moved his left limb to rest over his right. The back of his knee became enveloped in the heat of James’ leg. Calloused fingers gently moved lower and lower until they whispered across the tender skin. A small gasp left his throat at the touch, and Flint looked away, closing his eyes with a swallow.

“Rest, John,” he rumbled out and laid his arms atop the blankets. James felt the slow, tentative touch of Silver’s hand coming to rest atop his own. He opened his palm and John entwined their fingers together with a sigh against his neck. Their bodies created a welcoming warmth that soon enveloped them with the gentle rocking of the ship. Sleep befell them and carried their resting forms to a dark, comforting dreamless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MotherHen!Flint makes me feel so much better. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this little fic. Let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> As always, feel free to follow me on Tumblr @silversexual so we can obsess over Black Sails together. :D


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